


Hope

by conniebeauchamp



Category: Casualty (TV)
Genre: AU marginally as Alicia's 'story' didn't happen, F/F, idk - Freeform, or i don't think it did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conniebeauchamp/pseuds/conniebeauchamp
Summary: For, despite the distance between them and the fact that they've never even hinted towards their true feelings, Bea has hope. She has to, to survive.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is marginally AU and very random so I apologise in advance of you reading it!

_Do something great_ are the words that reverberate in the back of Bea Kinsella’s mind as she takes the first step out of the plane onto French soil. _We have high hopes for you_ follow shortly after, creating a cycle of what are both fond memories and a reminder of the insane pressure that accompanies gaining a place on the renowned international trauma course.

Getting from the aeroplane door to the baggage carousel is practically a blur; she vaguely remembers scanning her boarding card and passport at some terminal, and there were definitely a few people looking more than slightly confused when she said something about a drink. But all too soon, she’s picking up her battered blue suitcase – one that has followed her from Cork to Dublin to Holby and, now, to Paris – and heading to find the taxi driver with her name.

It feels like forever for her to find her name, Bea Kinsella, on one of the mini whiteboards. Far too long; for one traumatising minute, she became convinced that this was the medical version of catfish. To put the trauma course in her grasp, only to cruelly rip it away and call it a joke. A reminder she isn’t good enough. But, finally, she discovers it, attached to a blonde woman who looks like she’d rather be anywhere than the Charles de Gaulle airport at eleven pm on a rainy Tuesday evening.

As she sits in the taxi, Bea finally realises that she hasn’t turned her phone on yet. EU laws, Alicia informed her way back when she had first applied, mean that she’ll be able to use her phone as if she’s in the U.K which is a bonus she hadn’t originally counted on. Maybe living in France will be easier than trying to live in England and stay in touch with those in Dublin. Then again, maybe not. An international trauma course isn’t probably designed for staying in easy contact with people.

Her phone powers on and, after a few seconds to calibrate itself, she’s connected to a network. Another minute later, just as her driver’s taking a few dangerously sharp turns to undercut a lorry, text messages are coming through. _Good luck_ , some of them say, _you’ll smash it_ , is in not one but two texts.

The one she cares about the most is from her now former roommate, Alicia Munroe. It’s simple.

_Don’t forget about us when you become famous! Come back soon_. Xx

As she’s reading it, another one pings through. _Have a French martini or three for me_.

Bea laughs, going to reply until she remembers that it’s after ten at night at home and Alicia’s on an early shift. She wouldn’t appreciate a wakeup call, Bea’s sure of it.

But as she leans back in the seat, the faint stench of cigarettes and liquor entrenched in the fabric, she realises that she couldn’t stay away from Holby and Alicia Munroe, even if she wanted to.

…

They Facetime at least once a week, and Bea has to pretend to be totally cool with Alicia’s news that she’s renting out the two rooms in her house. Of course, she couldn’t expect her friend to leave her room vacant, could she, when she isn’t even considering paying rent from France? But the news tentatively given breaks Bea’s heart more than she’s willing to admit.

“I bet it’s gonna look _awesome_ ,” Bea enthuses, forcing a smile onto her lips and hoping that her deliberately French intonation (or as far as a lilting Irish accent can become French, anyway) distracts her friend.

It works, at least marginally.

Most of their calls are about anything other than work, which is exactly what Bea wanted. She’s glad that she still has Alicia in her life, even if the relationship isn’t to the same depth as she wants. Alicia Munroe is more than just a friend to her, and it took leaving for her to figure that out. Or maybe it didn’t, she’s not entirely sure. All she knows is that, somewhere between bottles of French vodka and kissing whichever girl is closest to her in the bar, the only person she really wants to spend time with is Alicia.

That’s something she keeps to herself, though. For no matter how much she wants to share her feelings with Alicia, it isn’t going to happen for a hundred reasons. Alicia doesn’t feel the same way, they’re in different countries, and Bea wouldn’t ever do anything to threaten their friendship. Especially when she’s so far away.

Sometimes, Alicia’s voice reminding her of why she’s wonderful and amazing and _definitely_ in the right career is the only reason that keeps her in Paris. She’s terrible with French and relies on Google Translate far more than she should, her current mentor is a sexist dick who thinks that she wants to sleep with him (spoiler: she doesn’t), and she spends half of her days dealing with the stereotypes that she embodies. Going back to Holby would be easy, would be safe.

But when Alicia tells her that she can do it, that she can get through the nights which consist of three hours of sleep, that she can drink too strong coffee and wear completely contrasting colours and get away with it in the fashion city of the world, Bea decides to stay. Because if Alicia believes that she is all of this, how could she possibly let her down?

…

Little does Bea know how important she is to Alicia, how intrinsically necessary their Facetimes are. From one thing to another, it’s been a fucking shit year, and she won’t be able to cope without Bea Kinsella.

Sometimes, she wonders whether she’s too reliant on someone who is only her friend. She doesn’t tell half of her friends anywhere near as much as she tells Bea, from falling into the toilet aged three to the fact that her left boob got a bit stingy last week because of this new shower gel and did she want to give Alicia her international trauma course participant opinion on it?

(Part of that was just an excuse to try and show Bea her boobs, she decided on reflection later that evening, even if it did fail.)

Labels have never been the way that Alicia Munroe has worked, particularly in the aftermath of her discovery about her father’s sexuality, and that’s certainly not going to change now. After Ethan … changed, in the aftermath of Cal’s death, she stopped feeling anything for him beyond the compassion she would feel for any of her friends. She stopped feeling anything romantic towards _anyone_.

Until Bea.

Or maybe the ‘romantic reawakening’ Bea stirred within her wasn’t love (or indeed, anything other than platonic feelings) but simply the recognition that, finally, someone else cared for her without wanting something. Without wanting her to go behind someone’s back, or to help them to improve their career, or to get revenge on someone.

Instead, Bea wanted to simply be with Alicia for who she was – and, admittedly, for a cheap rent in a pretty decent part of Holby.

That doesn’t mean that Bea means any less to Alicia – in fact, her departure seems to have strengthened the idea in her mind that these really are romantic feelings.

Not, of course, that Bea reciprocates this. She didn’t seem concerned when Alicia told her that she was renting out Bea’s former bedroom, after all, because why should she? As far as she’s concerned, Alicia’s just a pal who she also worked with and stayed at her house for a few weeks before getting onto one of the best courses in the world.

Why would she care that Alicia’s given her room to someone else?

…

She decides to make a surprise visit home in the middle of November. It’s cold and it’s icy and everything that Bea hates about the British weather, but Holby International Airport’s arrivals lounge feels like home – because it is.

Using the key she didn’t give back to Alicia (and having forewarned Gem Dean about her plans), Bea lets herself into the house, bracing herself for a potentially adverse reaction. Or, even worse, to see Ethan Hardy in the house, with Alicia again.

“Surprise,” she murmurs from behind where Alicia’s sitting in the living room, staying very still. She doesn’t want to give her a heart attack, so Bea stays where she is, waiting to see Alicia’s reaction.

“Bea?” Alicia replies, a question in her voice as she turns around. This fades, and is instead replaced with unadulterated glee. “Bea! You’re back! I missed you!”

She jumps up and runs across to hug Bea. However, somehow along the way, she trips and falls forwards, bringing Bea down with her. Their legs tangle together as the wind is knocked out of the pair of them, their bodies crashing down to the ground simultaneously.

Bea doesn’t know which of them makes the first move (though in subsequent weeks and months, she’ll proudly claim responsibility) but their lips meet and it feels like they’ve never been apart.


End file.
